


Snowed In

by bluebirdling



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romance, siriuslychessi's Potterverse Gift Exchange 2020, slow burn in the most one shot way possible, xmas fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28336608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebirdling/pseuds/bluebirdling
Summary: James Potter and Lily Evans happen to be snowed in just a day before Christmas, and both are forced to spend their Christmas, although not entirely unwillingly, together. James fancies Lily, and it's plain as day. What's the poor boy to do?
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans
Comments: 30
Kudos: 75
Collections: Potterverse Gift Exchange





	Snowed In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ConstanceZin (Zinzino)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinzino/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, you gorgeous, talented, marvellous woman, you.
> 
> Zin, I've been a fan of your art since the moment I entered tumblr merely months ago and to return a gift in kind for the one you gave us is my highest honour.
> 
> Special thanks to Chessi for organising the Potterverse Gift Exchange! It's been so fun to write this fic and be a part of something bringing so many people joy in this rather gloomy season for some. 
> 
> Thank you, Katie, for letting me borrow Tinsel, the sass queen, for this fic. Love you loads.
> 
> And Merry Christmas to everyone else! I hope you all like it!

**24th December**

_7:56 pm_

Of course nature _would_ decide to get its revenge on him near the holidays. Of course Sirius would leave it to him to break the bad news. It’s supposed to be the last day before all the residents leave and he can finally close the hotel.

  
There are only five people in the hotel, as it happens to be. Him, Sirius, Remus, and Aunt Verose.

And then there’s that fiery redhead.

Lily Evans.

She’d nearly taken away his breath when she walked through the double glass doors nearly a week ago, heading straight for the reception with a phone wedged between her face and shoulder, hands full with very heavy looking tote bags and a suitcase.

Sirius had smacked him upside the head and loudly proclaimed that he needed to stop gawking at redheads and, just to his luck, she’d heard it all. Turning to them, she had raised an eyebrow before walking off behind the bellman.

She hadn’t even given him a moments worth.

Just as well. He couldn’t afford to have any...relationship of sorts with any of the residents.

And now she is probably going to stay here for Christmas. In the same place. With him. Not just two of them, alone, tough. There will be others there too. Even tough the places she frequents are nearly the same as his, even if their schedules nearly match.

Christ, he’s borderline stalkerish.

The elevator opens with a ding, revealing a lengthy hallway. James looks down at the card in his hands, as if he hasn’t already memorised the room number on the first day.

Room No. 404

Two rooms to the left. He walks, hand reaching out to press on the doorbell before pausing.

Bloody hell, this isn’t happening _now_. He isn’t a simp. Lily is just a resident.

Move, you fucking fingers!

James sighs, raising his other hand and pressing it over his fingers.

_Ding!_

There. That wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Now, to actually _dealing_ with her.

But, before he can ready himself, the door swings open to reveal a very, very messy room. With half of it weirdly tidied up. Lily stands before him with a phone between her cheek and shoulder, nearly the same way she had been when she first came.

Except, this time, she’s in a bathrobe.

A bathrobe that isn’t too revealing, but one nonetheless.

James soundly clears his throat, but Lily's already moved inside, paving way between the bags and scattered books all the while talking away as she packs up.

...bloody hell, she’s already packing up.

He waits a moment outside, before tentatively putting a foot forward.

“—yes... _yes_ , Dad I will be there in time. What—no, I can’t hear you—I think the service is poor at the moment—“ she turns to him, raising a perfect eyebrow, to which he cringes in reply.

“Oh, it was just the owner— _no_ Dad! Bloody hell, he isn’t a murderer! Honestly, where do you _get_ these theories? Fine, I’ll call you back in a few.”

Great, now her dad thinks he’s a murderer.

James clears his throat once again, “I, er, I’m incredibly sorry to interrupt but, um, you might want to put that glass away.”

He’s dealt with enough people to know what they can use as a weapon, and he rather wants to keep in possession of his parts if he can help it.

Lily turns to him, putting the glass on the table, “Why? What was that power cut earlier?”

He looks at the tip of her hand, covered with the oversized sleeve, because he didn’t want to— _can’t_ —look anywhere else.

“Well, you see, the power cut earlier was caused by the…”

“The?”

“TherewasasnowavalancheandImsosorry.”

She blinks at him. Once. Twice. Then a third time, as if his stupidity is far too much to process.

“Could you maybe try saying that again, except slowly?”

Taking a deep breath in, he lets it out.

“We’re snowed in.”

* * *

_8:09 pm_

Lily is in her disturbingly messy room in a beautiful hotel tucked away in the snowy mountains ringing with Christmas cheer. She’s seen the magnificent tree in the lobby and the halls decked with pinecones and tinsel and mistletoes.

Yet, the most beautiful thing in this magical place is this boy standing in before her and, honestly, _how_ is that fair?

It doesn’t help that he happens to be the one to deliver the news that sends her over the brink of insanity. And now he’s probably thinking something along the lines of _‘Christ, she’s a loony bin’._

It’s supposed to be the _holidays_. She’s supposed to be with her family, or what is left of it anyways. She isn’t supposed to be in a snowed in a hotel after failing to secure a book deal.

Sure, the hot guy is there too.

She really doesn’t know if that makes matters better or worse.

“What the bloody fuck do you mean _snowed in_?”

She tries to calm herself, but she’s in near histerics, hand seeking to thrash something. Now she can tell why he told her to set the glass down before.

Hot guy with fitting bum fumbles over his words, hand gathering a fistful of his hair in a bunch. Her eyes follows after the movement.

Just bloody great.

Now she’s lusting after his _hair._

To her credit, it’s a damn good one, a messy fluff sticking up on all sides. And then there are those eyes. Lips. Catalogue worthy arms. And that arse.

 _Why_ is she a mess of hormones _now_?

This isn’t the time or place.

“Well, it snows, and as you can see, we’re surrounded by mountains, so sometimes an avalanche is caused and—“

“I know what snowed in means you dolt. Is there any way that isn’t unblocked? Any at all?”

He frowns a little, “I’m sorry, there isn’t.”

“What about the plowers?”

He hesitates, “I—“

She sighs, “Right, the fucking holidays.”

He sighs along with her, running a hand through his hair again, “I’m really sorry that you won’t be able to go home for the holidays. We’re trying to do our best. Well, _Sirius_ isn’t, but he’s a cheeky blighter. On the—“

“What’s a sirius?”

Hot guy with fit bum chokes back a laugh, “I—I’m sorry, _what_? Don’t tell that in front of him--well, actually you’re more than welcome to but—“

“That’s hardly an answer.”

“Sirius—is his _name_.”

“... _oh_ ,”

“Yeah, _oh_. Anyways, on the other hand, the next two days of your stay are free of cost so you don’t have to—“

Lily, shakes her head, “No, that’s not fair you guys. This wasn’t your fault—“

“And yet you can’t go to your family—“

“Well, neither can _you_ —“

“Actually, pretty much my whole family is here. My parents are on vacation so they wouldn’t have come anyways but everyone else is here, so really let us—“

“ _No_ , absolutely not I won’t accept it—“

“Neither would my mum, and you really can’t win against her. Aunt Verose wouldn’t allow it either.”

“You can’t just—“

“Oh, believe me, we can.”

Lily inwardly groans, turning her back on him. Too distracting. She can tell he won’t give up, but she’s got to pay anyways. There’s only one more day after all. One more...bloody hell, her dad’s going to go bonkers.

As if on cue, the phone rings.

Lily grabs it off her bed, hitting the accept caller button, “Hey dad, you might want to sit down for this.”

“He was a murderer, wasn’t he? Killed him did ya? Serves that git right.”

“ _No_ , dad, he’s not a murderer for heavens sake. Just...are you sitting down?”

“Yes, darling. Do go on.”

“Well...I might not make it for Christmas.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see hot guy shifting from one foot to the other.

“... _Lily_.”

“I’m sorry dad. You _know_ I am. It’s just...we’re snowed in!”

On the other side of the line, she can hear a long breath being let out. “No other way out? Plowers?”

“None. And it’s nearly Christmas Eve.”

“So you’re not spending this year’s winter with me either.”

“I _will_ , dad. I may miss Christmas, but I’ll never miss the New Years with my old man. I’ll dig my way through the snow if I have to. I promise.”

“I know, hon. Just stay safe, alright? I gotta go, Ash won’t stop glaring at me. I think I might’ve given too less of a dinner.”

Lily lets out a soft laugh, “Sure, dad. Sleep well. And give my cat kisses for me, will you?”

“And risk getting mauled? Absolutely not. You give them yourself.”

“I will, soon. Later.”

“‘Night, Lily.”

She throws the phone onto the bed once the line gets cut, sighing and burying her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry, just a bad day.” comes out muffled, but the bloke seems to get it anyways.

“S’fine. We’re having carols downstairs, if you want to join. It’ll just be the five of us.”

She hears footsteps decreasing, whipping around to find his back already turned.

“Wait!”

Hot guy stops, turning back, “Yeah?”

“I know what your aunt and best mate’s name is. Mind telling me what yours is so I can stop calling you ‘hot guy with fit bum’ every time?”

It’s a bold move. Even by Lily’s standards.

‘Tis the damn season, after all.

But, judging by the flush of his cheeks, clearly the right one.

“James Potter, at your service.”

Her breath quite nearly stops. Why did his name have to be _that_?

“James as in James Bond or James and the Giant Peach?”

“Both.”

“Well, your mother really did you justice.”

"She did." he shoots a fetching smile at her, a second before looking down as his phone lights up, frowning, "Er, I've got to go but call me or Remus up if you need anything, alright, Evans?"

And, with that, he walks out and depriving her of the sight of the bum and fluffy hair. She lets out a groan, falling back on the bed and ignoring the poke of her phone’s case in her side.

She’s stuck in this wonderful heaven tucked away from the world and the most beautiful person with her favourite name happens to be the most gorgeous of them all, and really, how is that fair?

* * *

**25th December**

_8:38 am_

"Merry Christmas, Verose." she slides into the chair in front of the kitchen island, eyeing the dishes spread around.

She didn't join the others for Christmas carols the night before, instead opting for a phone call with her boss, who happens to be one of the incredibly nice ones with holiday cheer. He told Lily not to worry about the deal, and that she should go and rest for the day. It just made her feel even worse. Then she'd phoned up Marlene, ranting on about the bloody stupid situation and the hot guy. When Marlene replied with, _'Oh, you poor, poor sex deprived girl--'_ , Lily hung up on the laughter booming out the phone.

Tinsel, the hotel cat whom she met on her first day and claimed her to be the love of her life second to Ash as she had with Lily, found her way into the room, jumping onto the bed and snuggling up to her soon after. Needless to say, she had been content with staying there for the rest of the night.

Then she woke up in the morning with a note slid under the door saying to join them in the kitchen.

After a quick call from her dad for a regular check-in, Lily, leaving Tinsel in a ball in the middle of the covers, left the door open so she could walk out and set out downstairs.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't hoping for ' _them'_ to be James Potter.

Not that she had spent the better part of the night thinking about him.

That _definitely_ wasn't the case.

A woman in her mid-60's comes from behind the storage room carrying a round box painted with mistletoes and golden streaks, "Hello, dear. Merry Christmas to you too. Take anything you want. The boys will be back soon and I guarantee those fools won't allow you to get a bone in."

Lily met Verose on her second day while giving her compliments to the chef, a woman with grey hair cut into a bob with wrinkles lining her forehead and cheeks, and crow's feet lining her eyes when she smiles. Also woman in her prime, who still wears and rocks her makeup better than most did or can even begin to imagine to. Verose had looked at her oddly for a moment, before dragging her off to the kitchen, where she had spoiled her with expensive wine and a dish of roasted potatoes-Lily's favourite. They immediately hit off, and it wasn't long before she phoned her best friend, claiming that Lily would be the ideal, if not best, daughter-in-law. Lily put two and two together and sincerely hoped that Euphemia meant James and not Sirius.

"So, how was James last night? Don't tell me you didn't—"

Lily sighs. She adores and respects this woman to the ends of the world even tough she's known her for all of a week but _, sometimes_ , Verose is a tad bit too much.

"No, we didn't, I've-'

"Lily, don't you _dare_. I managed to get that fool of a boy to finally utter a word to you after keeping mum for an entire bloody week! And now you mean to tell me that you two didn't even flirt a bit?'

There definitely had been flirting. And there definitely will be more, if Lily could help it. But Verose doesn't need to know that, not unless she wants it to be entirely awkward.

Tuning Ver out, she digs into the waffles and ginger biscuits, a plan forming in her mind.

Now, if only she can find that gorgeous git of a boy.

* * *

  
_9:26 am_

James ought to get new mates.

  
Traitors, the lot of them.

Sirius pinged him up in the unreasonably early hours of the morning, at four bloody o'clock, claiming that they needed to shower the hotel in proper Christmas cheer, seeing as they are—and probably will be—stuck for the next few days. Now, it’s more than seven hours past, and they haven't even gotten halfway through, despite it being a small building.

Sirius gave up three hours prior, claiming that it took up far too much of his precious energy, and launched an array of curses at him when James had the audacity to point out that it’s all his fault. Then he went and got sloshed on the couch, long lost into the depths of his Christmas drunken stupor. Remus left merely two hours in, claiming that he needed a good cup of coffee to go on, and for all James knows, he is sleeping it off in one of the suites. Or probably playing a game of cards with his aunt.

The only thing worse than a hotel not properly decorated, is one that is halfway through.

And James is certain it won’t be done by the end of the day if he’s alone on this. He’s going to give the decor staff a raise after the holidays. They really don’t get much appreciation.

This did, however, give him time to mull on yesterday’s night’s events.

He decides that she’s one of a kind.

That didn’t really take much time to decide upon. And it might sound cheesy, but it is true.

From what he’s seen over the week, she loves kids. And cats. Namely Tinsel and her pictures. Appreciates beauty for what it is. Loves the snow. Doesn’t back down, if the fight between her and the mysoginystic arse some days ago said anything. Willingly offers help instead of turning the other way.

She’s got a good taste for food and sense of humour, if anything Aunt Verose said was true. But, then again, Aunt Verose is a harsh judge of character, even if that only puts Lily in better light.

She is kind, he can tell. Reads tons of books and definitely, _definitely_ , is a book hoarder.

Has great taste in them too.

And is really, _really_ good at flirting.

So, all in all, simply put, a solid hundred on a ten-scale.

James pinches his nose in disgust. Christ, who is he, rating women on a ten scale? He nearly sounds like Sirius.

He’s been spending far too much time with that swotty—

“Ahem,”

The can of tinsel in his arms tumbled down along with its contents, landing on his foot as he nearly jumps in the air and spins around.

And there she is, the tips of her lips quirked, amused. The black pants shows off her long legs and midnight blue button downs (he feels rather offended in his black and red plaids pants and jumper), hair gathered up into a low messed up bun.

Which is probably how it looks when she gets up from—

No, _no_ James, _don’t_ go there, bloody hell.

“Merry Christmas! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

James nods then scoffs, “Merry Christmas to you too. And you didn’t scare me. I was just…”

“Scared?”

“No, no just something...less akin to scared.”

She snorts, walking up to him, bending down to pick the dropped tinsel, “Need some help? Verose said you might.”

“Yes, please. You can take my mate’s place, seeing as they’re all bastards.”

She lets out a musical laugh, honeyed and sweet, and he wants to melt down to his shoes.

“You can probably find ones down in the pub, even if they won’t be as good as me.”

With that, she walks away, giving him a perfect view of— _don’t look at her arse, don’t look at her arse, don’tlookatherarsedon’tlo—good god, this woman is going to be the death of him._

A few seconds of silence pass between them as the sound of rustling takes up the air, and he wants to kick himself. He nearly does. He can’t make this awkward. He _isn’t_ going to make this awkward.

_Say something, say something. Don’t just stand there you gnomeless git._

Lily puts the finishing touches onto the head of the fireplace, makes a quick eye contact with him, shoots a dazzling smile, and goes back to work.

_Hey. Hi. Hello. James Potter here, but you already knew that. Was the hotel service good? Did you enjoy last night’s dinner? This morning’s breakfast? I didn’t have mine but you lived rent-free in my mind the entire morning, so s’fine._

  
What a bloody fool. He isn’t new to this. Where had all his charms and wit gone?

Down the drain, it seems.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her scratching at something on the mantle piece.

“D’you reckon if I bribe the boys with chocolate and a ginger house making contest,” he says suddenly, “they’ll deign to make an appearance and actually get something done?”

Lily snorts, “And then gobble up the chocolate in their face and smash the houses that were painstakingly made into smithereens?”

He bites back a smile, pretending to make his hands busy even tough the only thing going through his brain is _‘bloody hell, she’s witty’._

“And spend the next day buried alive? No thanks. Remus will probably do nothing more than detest you for the rest of his life if you do that, but Sirius _will_ kill you nonetheless.”

“Do you really talk about your mates all the time?”

He does a double take at her, “What?”

She waves a mistletoe at the doorway, “Last night. You talked about Sirius. Now, you added Remus to the mix—“

“So, then, who would you like to hear about? My cat? My mum? My aunt?”

“You have a cat?”

He nods, “She’s around here somewhere, probably judging everything and everyone. You’ve probably seen her snarling at you. Green eyes, ginger and white, long beard-like hair—“

“You mean Tinsel? Oh, she’s a darling.”

James blinks. Then turns to her, frowning. It isn’t long before Lily catches on.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Tinsel...is a _darling_?”

“Well, yeah. And the most cuddly one ever, too."

“You’ve _cuddled_ with her?”

“...yes?”

“You’re lying.”

She bites out a surprised laugh, “I’m sorry, _what_?”

“You’re _lying_.”

“No I’m not.”

“You _are_.”

“I’ve got no reason to.”

“Then let’s find Tinsel now and you can show me.”

“What? Why?”

“She isn’t friendly with the human species. _Ever_.”

“Which is a surprise, since she was perfectly content with sleeping with me last night.”

James frowns at her. Tinsel _had_ been missing the night before, but he can’t tell her that. It isn’t true. She’d probably been down in one of the rooms, roving around the wide bars next to the staircase.

He shrugs and, ignoring her chaisated ‘ _James_ ’, sets out to find Tinsel.

* * *

  
_10:49 am_

“This is sorcery.”

“It’s not,”

“You’re a witch. You’ve cast a spell on her.”

“I really haven’t, James.”

He ignores the spike in his pulse rate as his name comes from her lips, instead choosing to frown at the sight before him.

Lily sits on his bed, hand raking through her fur and curving over the tail. Tinsel purrs contently, opening her sleepy eyes to look at him from her lap as if to say _this-is-how-you-treat-your-misteress-you-ungrateful-heathen-watch-and-learn._

“James, really, stop making so much fuss over it. Tinsel just happens to adore me. You really can’t change that.”

“I got him for Christmas _four years ago_ and he still won’t fetch me any food! And he just cuddles right up to you after a bloody _week_? That isn’t fair!”

She snorts, side-eyeing him before turning her attention back to the creature on her lap. A creature he can’t even consider as his own after it so thoroughly betrayed him for another. And to think he'd fed her all these years, showered so much love!

Why did he have to surround himself with traitors?

But then again, she gave all her consent to _Lily_ , so he really can’t be mad at her for that.

After all, he would do the same if he was a cat.

He tries not to think about the fact that she is currently sitting on his bed, cuddling his cat, and spins his chair around, reaching for a drawing pad and a set of pencils.

* * *

  
_12:23 pm_

Lily flips the page, smiling fondly at yet another drawing of Tinsel, sitting on the couch of his art studio which consists of two rows of narrow tables covered in scattered paints, brushes, mugs and scarps, several easels both covered and bare, several stools and a large tv.

“James?”

He looks up from his place on the opposite side of the couch, fumbling with the tv remote, “Yeah?”

“I think you have an unhealthy obsession with your cat.”

He snorts, “No obsession with cats is considered _unhealthy_ , Lily.”

“I doubt anyone has three entire albums on their laptop dedicated sorely for their cats, selfies with their cat, and photoshops of their cat.”

“Excuse you, those photoshops is the only greatest thing after Netflix.”

“Ah right, how could I forget? The photoshops aren’t even done by you and you _pay_ for it.”

“The internet and tech has never agreed with me and never will. I swear, those slave bots in the websites are out to get me.”

“Drama, James.”

He splutters and stutters, looking at her in disbelief, “Drama? _Drama?_ You call it _drama_? This whole snowed in situation was probably caused by them so you should be on my si—“ his eyes light up, looking back at the tv, “oooh, Enola Holmes, Enola Holmes! Let’s watch that!”

Lily shakes her head at his incredibly short attention span and raises an eyebrow, “I thought you already watched it?”

“And why should that stop me?”

She smiles amusedly as he grins giddily as the movie takes up the entire tv, fast forwarding to Enola riding her bicycle in the green pastures.

This isn’t exactly the Christmas she planned, but she can’t say she doesn’t mind this either.

* * *

  
_2:09 pm_

“I prefer Darcy.”

“But I’m a _Bingley_.”

“...I’m failing to see your point?”

“I’m a _Bingley_! You can’t just say that you prefer a Darcy when the perfect Bingley is sitting right in front of you!”

“Bingley doesn’t say his feelings until four bloody eons! I’m not waiting for a man who can’t get the fucking words past his lips!”

“You wound me, Evans. I most certainly can proudly proclaim my feelings.”

“Then you’re not a Bingley.”

“As opposed to what? _Darcy?_ ”

“If I’m Elizabeth Bennet, then probably, yeah.”

James bites back a smile, turning his face to the tv so that she can’t see the flush rising up his cheeks, tough he knows that won’t fool her.

Bloody witty woman and her bloody quips.

* * *

  
_4:11 pm_

“This is a _terrible_ idea.”

“Are you shitting me? This is _brilliant_.”

“James, we’re outside right now in the bloody cold and it’s snowing and you expect us to eat our lunch in this weather?”

“We’re protected from the snow! We’re literally inside at this rate!”

“And that makes it any better?”

“Eat your lunch, Lil.”

She tells the mini Lily, who is fawning over the boy in front of her, in her mind to bloody shut up and go hibernate. It’s no surprise when mini Lily pays her no heed.

After finishing Pride and Prejudice, they soon realised the time and attended to their stomach’s needs, spending an hour in the kitchens preparing their lunch. Or rather, _Lily_ chatted away as James made lunch for both of them.

A man who can whip up the most delicious potato roast immediately wins the key to her heart.

And that man just happens to be the same one who came up with the idea of a winter picnic.

This git is barking _mad._

James dragged her to the rooftop, setting up a place under the mini metal hut on the wooden table, protected from the snow and presenting one of the most beautiful scene Lily had ever seen in her life.

Truthfully, it’s definitely worth the snow.

She’d never tell him that, tough. He doesn’t need more of an inflated ego.

The snow capped mountains towers over them, tiny specks of colours and lights showing the other hotels and green firs fading into black rocks and snow. The fog settles over all around them, light enough to see through rather clearly, heavy enough to make its presence known.

“You like this.”

She turns back to James, “No? I don’t. It’s cold and my hands are freezing.”

“You actually _like_ this.”

“Maybe. Just a tad.”

He grins at her triumphantly, “Give them here,” and snatches her hands into his own, “can’t have you getting cold on my watch. Hotel policy and all that.”

Lily tries to hide her smile, failing with each second.

_Sure, James. Hotel policy it is._

Step one: Bedazzle him. Make him fall, and _hard._

Done.

* * *

_5:24 pm_

  
Lily’s jumping, grinning widely and hugging him. He’s not sure what happened, but he’s content with staying there all day.

Sadly, she moves away a moment too soon, rapidly speaking into the phone.

“—yes, yes, of course. I’ll be there first thing in the morning. Merry Christmas to you too!”

She turns to him, squealing and throws her arms around his neck once more.

“I got it! Fucking hell, I actually _did_ it!”

For the second time that day, he’s hit with her scent, the smell of crisp winter air from when they were outside and a hint of jasmine. He falls in love with it immediately, bringing Lily closer in his embrace to get more of it.

“I have absolutely no idea what this is about, but I’m happy for you all the same. But do you mind telling me?”

She laughs, pulling back, “I came here to secure a book deal with a famous ghost writer. For security reasons, she wouldn’t meet me and sent her agent instead. He rejected me almost immediately, probably due to the fact that he had a grudge against my company. So, when the writer found out, she apparently got furious and called me up just now to meet once again, this time, in _person._ It’s scheduled for mid-Jan. How _wicked_ is that?”

“That’s _amazing_ , Lil.”

“Ask me who the ghost writer is.”

He laughs, knowing it’s probably someone really talented for her to be this excited, “Who is it?”

She pauses dramatically, pursing her lips as if to try and keep from the words from bursting forth, but gives in anyways.

“Minerva freaking _McGonagal_ l.”

His eyes widen, looking at her, then at the book shelves behind her, then back at her again.

He chokes and stutters, words of no meaning or sense coming out.

Bloody hell, this _woman_.

Pointing to the shelf where a collection of books lay, _The Managers of Mischief_ , he shouts it out.

“You—you mean to tell me that—that, the ghost writer is the author of the only billionaire _bestseller_?! _The_ Minerva McGonagall?”

“ _The_ Minerva McGonagall.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope.”

“ _Bloody fucking hell._ ”

* * *

_6:01 pm_

  
“Have you proposed to her yet?

_“Mother.”_

“He’s still in denial about my divinity.”

James is sure he isn’t, and tell them both this.

“You are, dear. You are.”

“Bloody hell, mum, just say your wishes and go snog dad on the River Seine.”

“Well, how _rude_. You see what I have to deal with, Lily?”

“I _know_. Absolute blasphemy.”

“Come _on_.”

James really regrets calling his mother now. He should’ve known Verose would have already called Euphemia and told her all bout Lily. He should’ve suspected that Euphemia would’ve already met Lily.

He is, however, relieved that his mother likes her. It wouldn’t have mattered a whit to him, but it did make it worse if she didn’t like whomever he dated.

If he’s ever even going to date her.

They’ve only got a few more hours. Maybe even less. Then he’ll probably never see her again.

“Well, Fleamont’s finally arrived. Wish them, darling.”

His father appears, face taking over the entire screen, a splitting smile occupying it.

It isn’t long before they exchange pleasantries and leave for, what James is sure of, a snog and dance by the river. He’s hardly wrong about those things.

Before they cut the call, Euphemia gives him a stern look as if to say _get-me-my-daughter-in-law-for-Christmas._

When they’ve left and Lily hands his phone back to him, a message pops up.

**She’ll be gone by the time you stop being a sodding coward go DO something**

There’s a string of dancing and married couple and baby emojis, approximately several hundred of each, ending with a single emoji of the figure hitting her head on the desk.

Ah.

Well.

Someone’s got to do something about that, eh?

* * *

_6:47 pm_

There’s watercolours splattered on the background, fading in contrast to the painting in the middle. There’s a redhead that looks quite literally like her, stroking a sleeping Tinsel’s fur. It’s so beautiful, colourful and lively and Lily almost loses her shit.

He’s too good for her.

He’s painted a masterpiece for her.

She fancies him.

She really, truly does.

Funny thing, that.

James refused to show her the sketch he’d made hours prior, claiming that he didn’t reveal masterpieces until they were properly finished. And he’d finished it all in a single day, when they watched the movie, the multitasking bastard. When she points this out, he says he was just inspired in the moment, flashing a smirk.

She loves this. Completely _loves_ it, with every fiber of her being.

Fishing out her phone, she snaps a picture and sends it to Marlene.

_James painted it for me._

Instantly, a bubble with three dots appear, and a message pops up not long after.

**he's in love with you**

_Mar, that's blowing it out of proportions a bit, don't you think?_

**lily, he painted a bloody pIcTuRe of you**

**this is jack and rose titanic type shit**

**he's in love with you**

_He's not Mar_

**just because YOU haven't fallen in love with him doesn't mean he hasn't yet**

_Ffs_

**searching his insta rn**

**james potter right?**

***gasp***

[sceenshot]

[screenshot]

**v v hot**

**i fully approve**

**go get him, gurl**

Lily snorts, sends a final rude gesture emoji and closes the chat.

He's not. He _isn't._

Meanwhile, James sits on the table, reading through the pages while pulling his lip between his teeth. Reaches the last page when Lily’s just barely got over the shock of having such a wonderful gift being presented to her. And when he sets down the manuscript, she’s bombarded with his blatant affections once more.

“You’re bloody brilliant, you know that?”

Lily feels her neck flush, the red probably creeping up quickly, and nods, “Of course.”

“This,” he waves to the booklet on the table, “is single handedly the _biggest_ masterpiece that has ever graced my eyes. I’m not even exaggerating.”

“You do that a lot, James.”

“Not this time. A magic school? A driving car? A son of McGonagall’s inspired Marauder and a redhead with brains? Fucking brilliant.”

She grins as he runs a hand through his hair.

Lily wonders if he’d mind if she ran hers through his.

Not that she wants to.

Not _that_ much, at least.

“I’m still going to wait till at least February to start sending it to the agents.”

“And, believe me, I’ll be the first in line when it’s finally on the shelves.”

She pauses for a moment, chewing on her lip thoughtfully, “James?”

“Yeah?”

“How about doing the cover art for it?”

He blinks at her, and she wonders if she went a bit too far. But then his face lights up, his smile almost blinding her.

“Me? _Me?_ You’re joking—“ she shakes her head, grinning at him, “—you’re not, you’re—fucking hell, fuck-ing _hell_ , do you have any idea how many of them I could create—maybe we should do that scene where—”

So she’s not going to lose contact with him after all.

Step two: get the phone number.

This isn’t exactly it, but it's close enough.

* * *

_8:20 pm_

  
“What _is_ it with you and Russians?”

“We have a love-hate relationship going on, lay _off_ , Evans.”

“Excuse you, _The Marriage Proposal_ was _hilarious_. You just don't have a funny bone in your body.”

“Fu—funny _bone_? Anna Karenina is so much more than that bloody shit of a play. Tolstoy achieved what Checkov could never—oi, Evans, _stop_ messing with it—for fuck’s sake—“

James shakes his head at them amusedly, Lily and Sirius on the other side of the kitchen island battling in a challenge of who could make the best gingerbread house.

So far, Lily hadn’t even finished hers and gave up halfway through, too busy trying to rip Sirius’ argument down and making him accept that romance novels written by Russian authors would always lose against comedy plays.

Sirius’ house was a perfect monstrosity, even with the blighter being drunk, which was, in all honesty, completely unfair.

Lily didn’t seem to mind one bit tough, adding gummies to the edges and perfecting it.

James doesn’t have the heart to warn her of the tradition that follows, especially when she sits back and proudly spins it, but is too late anyways when Sirius raises his hand in a fist and beats it to dust.

* * *

_8:26 pm_

  
“You told me that he’d be mad if anyone tried to break his house!”

“Yes, Evans, anyone else other than _me_.”

“...you’re such a niptik, Black.”

“Oi, _no_ , keep your hands to yourself I won’t have you degrading my gingerbreads—“

“ _Degrading_ —?”

* * *

_9:47 pm_

  
She doesn’t want to move.

Even if the plowers come and make the path through the snow. Even if drunken Sirius comes in and bothers them to the brink of madness.

It’s not worth it.

_Say something. Anything._

But why? This is a perfectly content silence, and she really doesn’t want to break the spell. Or deprive herself of his scent.

Lily doesn’t know how they ended up like this, in an entirely dark floor-to-ceiling room save for the fairy lights lining the ceiling, the back of his head on her chest, his legs next to hers, an arm winded around his neck and fingers—finally, finally, _finally_ —threading through his dark locks.

She wanted to do that ever since she saw them.

And it’s exactly what she thought them to be, fluffed up and softer than cotton balls.

James’ voice cuts through the silence, “Sirius likes you, y’know.”

“Try not sounding so surprised.”

“I’m not. I’m _really_ not.”

She waits, silence filling up the room once more.

“Tell me your deepest, darkest secret.”

Lily does a double take, the words processing quickly.

 _I really fancy you. And I really want you to ask me out on a date,_ immediately comes to mind, but she doesn’t say them. Of _course_ she doesn’t.

She abandoned the stepwise seduction, instead opting for going with the flow. James is smart, but slow all the same. He can’t be rushed, she learned. Neither can his feelings.

Which is so goddamn _frustrating_ because she fancies him and she knows he does too.

So does everyone, it seems. Everyone except _him_.

Well, not exactly. He’d be blind and a complete dolt to not realise it by now. But he just won’t _act_ on it.

“I hate my sister.”

There’s a pause. Then James shifts, turning to look at her.

“ _That’s_ your deepest darkest secret?”

“Well, sorry my life happens to be boring and voidless of drama, James.”

“Good thing I’m here, then. Now, why do you hate your sister?”

He settles back into his previous position and she continues stroking his hair.

Is she going to tell him?

Bloody hell, she’s going to tell him.

* * *

_10:16 pm_

  
“Wear the yellow one, then.”

_“James,”_

“What? You’re telling me that she’s _that_ petty that she chooses her bridesmaids’ colours simply for the sake of your humiliation?”

“Pretty much shoved it in my nose, yeah.”

“Lil, it’s pink and _frilly_. You’re not wearing that to the wedding even if you could rock it better than anyone else. Wear. The. Damn. Yellow. One.”

“And how is that going to help?”

“Or blue. Midnight blue works too.”

“Well, I mean, yes, but James she’s—“

“So she’s your sister. So what? Sisters aren’t supposed to hide the college acceptance letter or try and sabotage every single relationship or convince your mother to not spend the holidays with the entire family, now are they?”

“...touché, my good friend. Touché.”

“So...lemon yellow or midnight blue? Wait, no, _navy_ blue—“

* * *

_10:23 pm_

  
“I have no knowledge of wine. Nothing, nada, zero.”

Lily looks up from Tinsel, who found her way to her once more, seeking her undivided affections and is slightly disappointed. She really can’t help that she’s distracted at the moment.

“So I just picked one of the oldest ones and, apparently, it’s from Italy. Can’t go wrong with Italian wine.”

She grins at him, taking the bottle from him as he sits down next to her, their arms just barely brushing against each other. Popping the cork, she takes a sip before examining the cover.

“... _eighteen ninety-two_?!”

James looks up from frowning at his cat, “Err...what?”

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my _god_.”

_“What?”_

“James, do you own a wine cellar?”

“...maybe?”

“Oh my _god_ —“

“It came with the _building_ —“

* * *

_10:57 pm_

  
He has her number. She demanded for husband phone, pulled up the contacts and added her number.

She’s _Mrs. Elizabeth_ in his phone now. 

She’s resting her head on his shoulder.

She’s holding his phone and scrolling through his pinterest board.

He’s told her all of it.

Bugger, _bugger._

He didn’t mean to. Really, _truly_ didn’t.

After three years of planning, of keeping mum even from his _parents_ , he’s gone and told a complete _stranger_ whom he met merely a week ago.

Well, after spending the entire day and a game of truth and more truth and a few sips of wine, she doesn’t seem like one. He feels as if he’s known her for ages, and yet she’s still a new... _universe_ , and he can’t possibly get to know her entirely even in a few years worth.

But he’d like to try.

He doesn't know if its the wine or just him.

Probably the latter.

“This one is _beautiful_. Are you really going to paint the entire map onto the floor?”

He nods, face still pale from what he’s just revealed, “And on the bookshelves too. Just the popular characters of each genre.”

“A Beauty and the Beast themed ladder?”

“Completely real and moving, but no kids below the age of fourteen allowed.”

'...you've really planned this through, haven't you?'

"Been planning it since three years."

"Then what's stopping you?'

He's taken aback by this question, staring into her eyes, confused.

Lily waves his phone, "You've got the plan. The blueprints are done. The land is bought. The books won't be a problem. Neither will the money, from what I can tell. So, what's stopping you? Your parents consent? They'd hardly care James. I'm sure Euphemia will be ecstatic--'

"No, its not that, just..'

'What?'

“What if it’s a complete failure and I just end up spending all that money?” 

She raises her head from his shoulder (wait, no, don’t do that), something in her eye catching his attention. 

It’s fondness. 

He doesn’t know what to make of that. 

“James, there are people who are even more rich than you and they choose to ride around in Lamborghinis and wearing Rolexes. At least you’re trying to do something _worthy._ That’s really more than anyone can ask for, least of all your parents.” 

“But, _still_ —“ 

“It’s _not_ going to fail. You really think that, with all that artwork and quality, it won’t catch anyone’s attention? It’s literally all any of us book lovers can even imagine and you’ve bought it to _life_ , James.” 

She gives him a stern look and he almost immediately gives in, laughing. The things she did to his insecurities. 

“Right, of course. You do realise that if this becomes a reality, it’ll be the sole promoter of your book right?” 

“ _When._ I’m holding you onto that promise.” 

He grins and takes a swing from the bottle, handing it back to Lily. 

“It’s no wonder I fancy you so much.” 

Silence, painful _unbearable_ silence, settles in the room. 

Fuck. Fuck, _fuckfuckfuck—_

He messed up. 

Bloody fucking shitting _hell._

He messed up. _Big_ time. 

_Just bloody_ great _, James._

He wants to crawl into a hole and _die._

Winicing, he raises his head, slowly, inch by inch, dreading the look on her face— 

She’s smiling. 

No. _Smirking._

Fucking _hell_. 

“Was wondering when you’ll finally admit it. Does it really take that many sips for it all to tip? You’ve got a really weak backbone there, James.” 

“I— _what?”_

“Twenty-four hours, James. _Twenty-four.”_

“ _What_ are you on about?” 

“Why, you fancying me of course,” she shimmies away, twisting so she’s sitting next to him, _facing_ him, “which was clear since the time you checked me out.” 

“Wha—“ 

“Well, there were actually _two_ main times—not that I’m counting, of course—one last night and today morning.” 

“You saw that?” 

“You weren’t trying to hide it much.” 

“You were giving me looks too!” 

“And wasn’t even bloody stubble about it, either,” she swings a leg over his, now sitting _directly_ in front of him, in his lap (fuckfuckfuck), “but you’ve got the eyesight of a blind man, which isn’t surprising with the glasses you’ve got, but, really James, it’s _still_ too long.” 

“Right. Too long.” 

She’s straddling him. She’s _straddling_ him. 

Their faces are inches apart. 

Many an inch too far. 

He ought to fix that. 

“Now, are you going to kiss me, or do I have to wait another age for that too?” 

“No, not really needed.” 

“Clearly.” 

“Clearly.” 

Lily huffs, hitting his chest, “ _James.”_

“Right, let’s get into it, shall we?” 

“Get _into—“_

He swallows the words with his mouth, and Lily sighs into his. 

_Yes, yes, this is good._

_Brill._

Their bodies merge, bottle in Lily’s hand long forgotten, hands roving around and pawing away, lips biting and tugging, bruising one another, air barely getting through. Her hand is warm on his face, pushing his glass out of the way, the other splayed over his navel under his shirt. James presses his thumb to her jawline, angling it for better access, fingers entangled in her beautiful, wonderful, luscious hair. 

He’s wanted to do this for _so long._

She nibbles at his lower lip, emitting an embarrassing groan, and he runs his lips down to her neck, trailing along the sharp jawline, little pants escaping as he nicks at her pulse point, steadily beating fast against his lips.

A low growl erupts from the base of her throat and he smiles against her neck. 

* * *

_11:44 pm_

It’s nearly an hour later and her person is comfortably pressed up against his on the couch. 

James hovers over her, hands firmly placed on each side of her as Lily’s wraps itself around his neck, his lips trailing open-mouthed kisses along the base of her throat.

Lily sighs contently. 

What a turn of events the holidays have been. 

She doesn’t mind it much, tough. 

James raises his head, nudging his nose with hers, a moment before he raises himself by a inch.

She’s reminded of what Marlene said, and maybe, just maybe, it’s true even though it’s too soon. But she’s okay with that. They’ve got all the time in the world. 

“Hullo, there.”

Lily grins, “Hullo yourself,” and leans forward to capture his lips in hers once more, because she still can’t get enough, it’s all—

There’s a loud sound that startles them out of their little heaven, banging and shouts, all coming from the door. 

James groans, “That little twat—“ and makes to get up, but Lily pulls him back to steal one last kiss. 

He’s grinning widely when she pulls back, drops a small peck onto her forehead and gets off the couch to dress up.

“I’m _coming,_ you dunce. Stop trying to knock down the door, for fuck’s sake—“

She smiles at his bare back, letting her head drop back. 

It’s alright. 

They’ve got all the time in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on tumblr at @bluebirdlinginthenest?


End file.
